The Seed

Has it been planted yet? Will it grow if I nourish it? If I relinquish fear and conquer madness, can a blossom replace a weed? Banished from my own garden, Hidden by my own fears. A seed harvested from deep within will cultivate from tears. This sense from my gut pit, Burning, churning can’t rid of it. My seed cannot be planted here, for it will wither and die, Where then may I plant it, for it to grow and thrive?